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Wednesday, May 28, 2008

How cool is it that I am taking a class this summer where we are required to research a woman artist, create a lesson plan around her, make atc's AND construct a fabulous crown? All for college credit no less, oh how I lurve my school!

Monday, May 26, 2008

Thursday, May 22, 2008

I woke up this morning with the music from Footloose in my head. Actually, I woke up with the entire opening sequence in my head. Maybe it was that movie that began my obsession with pictures of feet...in shoes, of course. Aack. the song is still in my head. What a great movie. Especially for the fourteen year old jek who saw it. I didn't dance when I was in junior high. I was too shy. We had dances all the time but I never went. Once I had finally made a friend in the ninth grade we plotted to go to a dance and I remember writing about it in my diary. I even sketched out the outfit I was going to wear in all of its pink & gray glory. I even think I planned on wearing my hair in a pony tail. A side pony tail. Oh wait, I just checked my diary and I didn't sketch it out, I did sketch out my plans for a Surf Punks Halloween costume. I loved the Surf Punks. Does anyone remember them or were they just a California band? Here's what I wrote about my outfit (errors and all). Apparently it was peach, pink & gray. Sheesh. Please note that I was fifteen and I am sure we were all little lumps of anxiety and self-pity:

"The Romance Dance for Valentines Day. I'm wondering if I should go? I guess I will. Even though I feel funny about he way I dance. Krista wants me to go. (But what should I wear?) I wish I was pretty! Oh, why couldn't I be pretty and have perfect eyes and teeth? Why? If I went to the dance I bet nobody would ask me to dance unless they were desperate! And if that weren't enough, I found out my grades for the year...History B, English A, Math C, Science D, Typing C and PE C. Bad! Terrible! Grotesque! Disgusting! and don't forget AWFUL!

Hullo again! I can't wait to go to the dance. (The dance is this coming Thursday, February 7.) I'm going to where a faded pair of LEVI'S with my peach & green & white striped shirt and the animal sweater that Lynda gave me plus my grey boots and pink socks, I sure hope I don;t make a fool of myself, and I hope there are dance tickets left! Nothing is happening so I guess I will ******Sign Of ****

P.S.
I want to go see That's Dancing"

Of course I didn't go. I chickened out and then my mom was in the hospital. Seriously though, peach and gray and pink? The shirt was an oxford shirt with a white collar, I have no idea what the animal sweater was. It wasn't Animal from the Muppet show, I know that at least. My problem with dancing back then was that I grew up watching Elvis movies and while I did enjoy watching American Bandstand, I preferred to dance like a go-go dancer in Clambake and well, that was just weird. I got over my fear of dancing when I was around 16 or 17. The bulk of my dancing was done at the Goth clubs around Los Angeles with a bunch of early secret L.A. raves thrown in. I decided to go with my gut which ended up with me doing the swim or the twist at a goth club. It would embarrass my gothic almost-boyfriend who bedecked himself in velvet and lace. All in all we had so much fun back then. The mister and I dance. We don't go dancing but we dance. We dance in the living room, at the supermarket, on the street corner. One of our first non-dates was spent at the mister's place dancing to Vince Guardaldi a la Peanuts style. At our wedding, we polka'd and in the market we swing.

If only we weren't both sick right now I would pack up a picnic lunch and go to the park so we could eat, nap and swing dance under the eucalyptus tress. Make sure you make time for dancing. It is always a good thing.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

I'm on the mend, somewhat. Not quite ready to break out the stripey socks but I will be soon. I started a new summer gig and didn't get home until 5am. I'm still sick but on the mend and so looking forward to a girlie day at the movies tomorrow. I hope my stomach can take caffeine. I would love a latte.

While I was thinking my brain is in a better place, I learn that Grandma is going to be delivered on Thursday. How surreal is that? But then, she'll be here, in the casa with her daughter and from there we can only move forward, right?

This sick and sadness has tumbled me all around. I feel like the past few weeks have moved in slow motion and yet each day so much happened in a long, agonizing, drawn out kind of way. I want to be healthy again. I hate being sick. Especially in the heat. I hate the fuzzy brain thing I get after I am sick. I hate not knowing where to begin again. I feel so behind. I have my research paper to finish and it would be nice to take pictures again. the casa is a whirlwind of mess and I owe many people phone calls. Out of the loop girl, that is me. Oh, and I'm hungry but not quite willing to put anything back into my stomach...except pudding...chocolate pudding.

I got two hours of sleep, not good for a recovering ick girl. I htink I will nap a bit more. Finish with some important pictures and then go to the post office before I head out to another late night shift.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Are you still a daughter when there is no one left to mother you? I've never been one for Hallmark Holidays but golly does this Mother's Day make me fell all wonky.

I keep thinking that I'm forgetting about Grandma. That the phone call wasn't real. That she is laying there in the hospital all alone and wondering if I forgot about her. I keep thinking that I will stop by to say hello on my way to school or the market or wherever. I'm not a wallowing mess but I am sad. Quietly sad. I suppose I would be more sad if I wasn't sick right now. The last time I was this sick, I was 22. It's been a long time. I waffle between fever and chills and simply ache all over. This could be a combo stress/sick thing. I do that. Get sick when I am stressed. With Grandma gone, I feel a little scared. I feel as if my mother's memory is even further away than before. I'm mourning my mom all over again. Even though it was me taking care of granny, her presence alone made me feel safe and taken care of. I had been taking care of Grandma since I was 28. How young that is. Actually, when I was 22, Grandma broke her hip and needed to have a live in of sorts. I moved in to help her out. She lived on the second floor of an old cranky building without an elevator. It took a long time for us to get up and down those stairs. We had doctor's appointments, physical therapy and shopping to do. She could be very, very cruel back then. It hurt. A lot of the words she hurled, hurt. Even then, I thought how lonely her life must have been. She never had any friends. I never knew the name of any one friend of hers. She was a suspicious lady. She was mean and opinionated and prejudiced.

There was an incident, a turning point of sorts for the three of us. My mother, grandmother and I. She was getting ready to go holiday shopping. I decided to head out and get my mom, fill the car with gas and come back to pick her up. The gas station took forever and we got back a little later than she expected and boy, howdy did she pull out the big guns. She was awful. Mean spirited and very angry and I couldn't take it anymore. So I yelled. I'm not really a yeller. I don't like feeling angry. Anger eats you up and it isn't worth it. I told her that she was a hard, cruel woman. That no matter how hard and good we all tried she couldn't accept it and what could we do? I told her I loved her but that I wasn't going to allow her to be mean to me anymore and I burst into tears and ran down those creaky, awful steps. I sat myself down onto a stone bench and bawled myself silly. My mom appeared and sat down next to me. She put her hand on my shoulder and whispered "Thank You". My mom had always wanted to tell her those things but couldn't. My heart filled up with sadness for her. For the both of them.

The thing is, I understand why Grandma was mean. I'm not excusing it, but I understand. It took my mother's passing and a lot of work on my part to loosen the lady up with love and kindness and honesty. I was there for her but I wasn't going to accept her being mean. When she said unkind things I left. I told her I would be back but it would be longer than usual because I needed time to "recover" from her words. I never coddled her. We argued, often. I never responded cruelly to her. I told her how her words and actions felt to me. Through it all. I was there. I might not have been there as often as she wanted me to but eventually she grew kinder. She started to smile. I don't think I ever saw her smile when I was a child. She became thoughtful. She asked questions to learn more about others. She became more "tolerant" of those different than herself. At her end, she developed a reputation for being the nicest, sweetest person. I am so grateful that she had the opportunity to be loved by others outside her family. She made friends and she made people smile. Good for you Grandma, good for you!

So, today is Mother's Day. What a capper to the horrid week I've had. Grandma is gone, I've been sick. I had to apply for an extension on my paper and that makes me feel like a failure. To put a cherry on top of it all. The ipod was stolen out of my car when I was at school the day after Grandma died. It's just an ipod, who cares, but really, people still actually take things that don't belong to them. Enjoy your new ipod you thief. It's a first generation ipod so have fun finding a cord that will fit and until then, enjoy all the Skiffle, Nick Cave and Patsy Cline you can. You probably threw it away anyway you skeezy thieving person.

Bother. I apologize for the rant and sadness floating about the blog as of late. It will get better, I promise. The picture up there is of my Grandma and my Mamos around 1948-49. Easter. I wish you all well and if you are a Mom, Happy Mother's Day.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Oh Grandma, am I going to miss you! I will miss your childhood stories and Lithuanian songs. I will miss your young married life escapades with that "no good" dapper man, my grandfather. I will miss your proud words of my mother. I will miss your stories and giggles of your sisters and I will miss hearing about your alien abduction. You were a remarkable woman. You worked hard your whole life so that others could go to school and be taken care of. You worked hard to muddle through and you did it all on your own. I am so proud of you and I am sad for you. I am sad that you didn't get to become a nurse like you wanted. I am sad you closed yourself off from being hurt by others. You did well you did! From Woolworth's to Lockheed to The Walnut Growers of America, you worked hard, you worked long. Now it is time for you to live your dreams. May they be full of bright colors, giggles and song. Ninety-five years, ninety five. That is amazing. Your life and your stories and your memories helped to make me who I am today. Thank you Grandma. I love you.

Friday, May 02, 2008

We're off for a nice family vacation up in the Sequoia National Forest! Whoo-hoo! I love the forest and can't wait. Here's hoping the sniffer works so that I can smell all the trees. Have a great weekend folks!

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